


A Better Way

by QueenThayet



Category: Whyborne and Griffin - Jordan L. Hawk
Genre: Caning, Canon Compliant, D/s, Except with a ruler, M/M, Maelstrom - Freeform, and kisses, and then smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 20:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11193102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenThayet/pseuds/QueenThayet
Summary: “Blast it, man, you put a hole in the only known portrait of Theron Blackbyrne! I know you disagreed with my placement of it, but there are better ways to express your opinion.”***Taken from the incident in Maelstrom with Drs. Farr and Durfree where Griffin theorizes that their relationship is more than just adversarial. And Whyborne is oblivious."Their rivalry is legendary! Half the staff have bets as to when they'll kill one another.""Aside from the need for discretion, some people prefer their affairs more... tumultuous."





	A Better Way

**Author's Note:**

> I just re-read all of Whyborne and Griffin after Draakenwood came out and I was struck wanting a little resolution to the Farr and Durfree incident. So I wrote it. The initial dialogue and the quotes in the summary are taken from the text of Maelstrom, chapters 31 and 32.

“Anthony,” Jacob called out, his voice wavering. Anthony looked across the room and saw Jacob standing there. He looked lost, and sad, and worried. Anthony took a breath and drew himself up and nodded. 

“Thank you, Mr. Flaherty, Dr. Whyborne. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Anthony held Mr. Flaherty’s reassurances of Jacob’s good intentions against his heart as he strode across the room. “Blast it, man, you put a hole in the only known portrait of Theron Blackbyrne! I know you disagreed with my placement of it, but there are better ways to express your opinion.”

Jacob let out a breath. “I’m sure you’d rather I’d have shot you than the painting, then!”

“Non-lethally, possibly yes,”

“You say that now, Farr, but think about how much you’d be complaining if I’d actually hit you,” Jacob responded playfully. 

They walked home together, as quickly as possible, as Anthony explained what Mr. Flaherty and Dr. Whyborne had told him about the mesmerism and how they were likely still in danger. 

“Of course I could never have shot you, my dear,” Jacob said resolutely. “I hope you know that.” 

“I do, but it was so terrifying, Jacob,” Anthony responded. “You weren’t yourself at all. You were just suddenly waving a gun at me!”

“I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry,” Jacob said, pressing his lips against Anthony’s once they were safely inside their house. Anthony kissed back, pressing Jacob up against the door. 

“Never, never scare me like that again,” Anthony murmured between kisses. 

“No, never,” Jacob agreed, running his hands over Anthony’s body. “And you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

“Just my pride that you would best me! Next time you wish to settle our grievances with a duel, I’ll be better prepared,” Anthony teased. 

“Hah!” Jacob exclaimed, “I much prefer our normal method.” 

“In that case, I’ll have it out of your hide for that hole you shot in the painting!” Anthony growled, reaching for Jacob’s ass. Jacob pressed himself against Anthony in response. He too, it seemed, wanted to reassure himself that everything was back to normal, that they were okay. Anthony maneuvered them into what should have been the front parlor, but instead served as his office. He pushed Jacob down over his desk, as Jacob was already unbuttoning his trousers. 

Anthony grabbed his wooden rule out of the top drawer of his desk and then shoved Jacob’s trousers and drawers down roughly. He placed one hand on Jacob’s back, holding him down, while running the ruler lightly over Jacob’s bare ass. 

“I think twenty strokes for your behavior,” Anthony said, attempting to keep his voice dispassionate and authoritative. 

“Twenty?!” Jacob tried to push up, sounding outraged. 

“You put a hole in the Blackbyrne portrait!” Anthony pushed him back down

“I was hypnotized or mesmerized or something! I wasn’t myself!” Jacob protested. 

“Only. Known. Portrait.” Anthony repeated firmly. “If you keep arguing, I’ll make it thirty for your insolence.” 

Jacob grumbled in response, but didn’t voice any more complaints. He stretched his arms up above his head and settled himself over Anthony’s desk. 

“Count,” Anthony commanded. 

“One,” Jacob’s voice shook as Anthony struck him once with the ruler. “Two, three, four.” Anthony paused, making Jacob wait for the fifth, letting the blood rush to the surface of his skin. 

“Five,” Jacob’s voice rang out defiantly once Anthony finally took the stroke. Anthony smoothed his hand over the rising welts and Jacob shivered. Anthony administered the next ten strokes in rapid succession, varying their location and strength and leaving Jacob’s ass crisscrossed with red lines. 

“Beautiful” Anthony breathed out, admiring his work. Jacob’s voice had cracked a bit on “fifteen,” which shot right to Anthony’s prick. Jacob squirmed against the desk, wriggling his hips in a way that Anthony knew signaled his arousal rather than his discomfort. He pressed a hand over his groin, still fully clothed, and took a deep breath to center himself. 

“Tony, please,” Jacob begged. 

“I’m going to give you your last five, and then I’m going to take you, right here on my desk, is that what you want?” Anthony said, his voice heavy with desire. “That is how we settle our little disagreements, isn’t it my love?”

“Yes, Tony please, take me, make me yours again,” Jacob sobbed as Anthony kneaded his abused buttocks, and then pulled them apart before pushing a finger covered in petroleum jelly into him. Anthony worked him open quickly, then picked the ruler back up. 

“Sixteen. Seventeen. Oh please, please. Eighteen. Nineteen.” Jacob moaned as he counted, balancing on the brink of pain and pleasure, that delicate equilibrium almost as delicious as the pleasure that would follow. Anthony knew what Jacob needed: Anthony’s firmness and stability, as well as the punishment so that he could forgive himself; and then his love, the passion that sparked between them every time they bickered and hadn’t dulled over the past decade. 

“Twenty.” Jacob went pliant after the last stroke and Anthony pushed his own trousers down, slicked himself up in a single stroke and thrust into Jacob. 

Anthony knew he wouldn’t last long, after the build up he’d given himself, but this wasn’t the time for slow deliberate love-making. This was... a reassurance. A reaffirmation that Jacob was himself and Anthony loved him. Anthony pounded into his lover, holding him down against the desk, keeping him safe and close. He felt the hot skin of Jacob’s abused buttocks press against his thighs and reveled in knowing that he was the cause. 

“Mine,” Anthony growled into Jacob’s ear, angling himself to make sure the pleasure overwhelmed any pain. Jacob suddenly clenched around him and spent on the desk. Anthony groaned and thrust once more as he found his release. Anthony kissed the back of Jacob’s neck, holding him down for another moment until he felt able to stand again. He cleaned them up a bit with his handkerchief and helped Jacob over to the davenport. He pulled his trousers up and then sat down on the floor next to where Jacob was stretched out on his front. 

“Feel better, love?” Anthony asked as he smoothed some lotion over Jacob’s tender skin. 

Jacob sighed happily. “Yes. Thank you. You take such good care of me.” 

“Always.” Anthony pressed another kiss to his cheek. “I should go pack our bags. Mr. Flaherty suggested it would be best if we made ourselves scarce. Perhaps we could visit your sister in Hartford?”

“Yes, yes, it’s always good to see Rebecca and the children,” Jacob responded drowsily. “I’m sorry I tried to shoot you.”

“Think nothing of it, old boy. It wasn’t you. Already forgotten.” Anthony pressed another kiss to Jacob’s head and then covered his lover with a blanket before he went upstairs to pack.


End file.
